


They call it Football

by partsguy



Series: Reunion [3]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24289954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partsguy/pseuds/partsguy
Summary: Morse wnts Joan to accompany him to a recital but there are complications
Relationships: Endeavour Morse/Joan Thursday
Series: Reunion [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729336





	They call it Football

They call it Football

I simply couldn’t help it, my eyes were, for what seemed like the hundredth time this morning, drawn to the clock on the wall. Apparently, all the laws of physics and nature had been suspended and time had indeed stopped. Or perhaps I was caught in some sort of time warp. Joan had only asked me to mind her son for about three hours while she took her daughter out. A small price to pay I thought for being able to spend the afternoon, and if all went well, the evening with her.

But perhaps I was wrong. The restful quiet of her house was suddenly broken by what could only be the sound of a football being either bounced or kicked in the next room. Immediately visions of from my own youth, visions of broken vases and other delicate items, came to mind. I suddenly realized what my parents must have thought during my own short ill-fated attempt at football. Almost as if I were channeling my parents, two words erupted unbidden from my mouth “not inside!”

Not surprisingly Joan and I hadn’t seen each other during the days since she had surprised me by announcing that she intended to divorce her husband. For one of the few times in the years we had known each other I felt that I completely understood her motives. Certainly she was needing time to take stock of what she wanted for herself and her family. What those goals were I really had no idea at this point. Surely, she had gotten advice from friends and of course by consulting with her attorney. It seemed likely to me that they had advised her against getting involved in another serious relationship at this point. Surely, she had been advised to avoid any activity that could be construed as improper.

As for myself, I felt that it was probably a blessing in disguise that we hadn’t seen each other for a few days. As little as I understood human relationships I understood that I was once again falling in love with her. Perhaps the truth was that despite my actions I had never really been out of love with her. Despite my feelings I had been unable to prevent myself love from thoroughly botching our relationship in the past, more than once in fact. Although I did think that on some levels, she had contributed to the misunderstandings, she had also been the constant in the relationship.

That relationship had ebbed and flowed over the from my multiple proposals to her leaving everything behind and moving away. Yet I had always felt that we had a connection of some sort which had never, despite my worst efforts ever died. So did I want to go down that road again? Did I want to drag her, not to mention myself down that road again? Of course that assumed that when last came to last, she would even entertain the idea? Today her children, and husband, estranged or not, made the situation infinitely more complicated. Could I prevent a repetition of the disasters of the past? Could I adapt and accept the reality of the current situation.

We were no longer a pair of starry-eyed young people caught up in the maelstrom of dreams and lust. No, she had a young family now, with two children that must be her primary focus. Could I accept that I would not be the number one thing in her life? Could I change my ways, did I want to, and could I help her raise those children?

Could she accept me again after all the mistakes I had made in our past? Would I ever forgive myself if I didn’t try again? Joan was still a beautiful woman, one who would not be short of suitable suitors, likely a substantial number with better prospects than a police inspector. Lots of “if’s” but I knew I had to find out.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is your mother in?”

“Yes”

“Then could I talk to her for a minute?”

There was the distinctive sound of a phone hitting a table as the girl sat the phone down without answering and went to get her mother.

“what is it dear?”

“somebody wants to talk to you on the phone”

“who is it? did they say?”

“no momma, but it sounded like that old man that visited and stayed for dinner that time.”

The very slightest hint of a smile came to Joan’s face as she wiped her hands on her apron. “thank you honey, I’ll be right there.”

“Hello.”

“Hello, Morse here.”

“Morse, I was just thinking about you.”

“Really, I’m flattered.”

Joan had to stifle a laugh, she could imagine Morse now, trying to figure out was that a compliment or was she teasing him.

“eh, I just thought I would call and see how you were doing”.

“Very well, just getting dinner ready, how about you?”

“I see, if it’s a bad time I can…

“No you’re fine, I’m glad you called.”

Small talk was never my strong point “Well, I finally got the heater repaired in the Jaguar.”

“I’m impressed.” .. “I’m glad to see that you were able to find the time?”

“Weeeell I have been very busy lately.”

“I know, work” ….. “Does that mean that I might not get glycol on my shoes…at some point.”

“I hope not…. I mean no, you won’t have to worry about getting glycol on your shoes anymore.” I had to pause paused realizing that I was only making things worse. After taking a breath I plunged ahead.,” but I wondered are you busy Saturday afternoon?” “I don’t believe it’s your style but there is going to be a recital at the college……perhaps if you’re free.”

“What kind of recital?”

“One of the better local talents. Classical of course.”

Of course she had known the answer but there was always a chance. “Morse, I wouldn’t expect anything other than classical from you.”…. “What time?”

“Its scheduled to start at two, and then afterwards there’s a reception which I’ve been invited to.”

“Let me call Debbie and see if she’s available. Can I ring you back later?”

“Of course……I do hope you can make it.”…..”perhaps we could make an afternoon of it.”

“Sounds interesting, of course I’ll have to have a sitter. Let me call Debbie then. Goodbye”

Joan hung up the phone, a little smile playing around her lips. She wasn’t really a fan of classical music, although her association with Morse over the years had taught her to at least tolerate it. She would finish what she was doing, and call Debbie later. It wouldn’t hurt to have Morse wait just a bit.

“But Momma you promised us we could go Saturday.”

“Well something has come up that your mother may have to do.”

“But you promised!”

Joan knew that she had promised her daughter to take her shopping for a new outfit Saturday afternoon. At the same time although she wasn’t a fan of classical music she didn’t want to chance offending Morse’s delicate insecurities.. After some thought she came to what she thought might be a solution.

“Morse”

“Morse, its Joan.”

“Good evening, how are you tonight?”

“Fine, fine.”

“That’s always good to hear.”

“Morse, about Saturday”

“Yes?”

“There’s a little problem, I have a previous obligation which I had forgotten.”

“Oh, I see”

“I was supposed to take my daughter out shopping Saturday afternoon,…. and I had promised.”

I knew she would sometimes have conflicts like this, regardless I was disappointed. “I see, perfectly understandable. Another time perhaps”

“Wait Morse, perhaps there is a way, but I hate to ask….”

So there was a glimmer of hope “Go ahead”

“well I was thinking..oh, I really hate to ask this of you”

“what is it?”

“I could take her Saturday morning, instead of the afternoon, but…..”

“Debbie is busy that morning and somebody has to mind Ben.” “But I have an idea.”

Immediately I realized where she was going with this, and I couldn’t believe it.

“yes?” “what is it, it can’t be that bad”

“Well, if you weren’t busy Saturday morning…..perhaps you could mind my son while I take my daughter shopping. Then we could all have lunch together. Debbie is free that afternoon, so she could mind the kids while you and I go to the recital…I know it’s a lot to ask.”

I had been worried that she would turn me down, but this. This might be worse. But….

“weeelll, I suppose I could do it.”

Saturday morning came, and I drove slowly towards Joan’s house. Carefully gauging my pace to ensure that while I wasn’t late, I had no desire to be early either. The thought of having to babysit Joan’s son held no appeal for me. If it didn’t involve cocktails and appetizers, I had no idea how to entertain anyone, much less a child for several hours. Yet, it was either that or not see Joan today.

Finally pulling up in front of her house, I took my time getting out of the car and walking up to her door. Someone must have been watching and Joan herself opened the door, one earring in and the other in her hand. Obviously not quite finished with her preparations to go out. “Good morning, Morse” she greeted me with that smile that still brought my heart into my throat. “come on in, my daughters not quite ready”, she huffed a little laugh as she was inserting her last earring adding “she must be taking after her mother, heh?”

“good morning” I gave her what I hoped passed for a smile, then entered the house carefully, having only been there a couple of times I wasn’t quite sure of where I was to go. Sensing that Joan led me into the living room, telling me to “make yourself at home, I doubt if you’re interested in the television but feel free. The papers in, and feel free to do the crossword, none of us are that clever”. I thought I heard someone, likely her daughter, in the kitchen, so I presumed she was almost ready.

“I’ll introduce you to my son, Ben, before we go.” She reached out and touched me on the sleeve, “I really appreciate you doing this, I know it’s asking a lot.”

A weak smile was all I could muster “it’s perfectly alright”

“Ben, come in here and meet Mr. Morse.”

Joan’s son came from somewhere further back in the house. Joan did the introduction by saying “Ben, you remember Mr. Morse, he will be staying with you this morning while your sister and I are gone out for a little while”. “He and I are old friends, and I’m sure you and he will get along famously.”

Young Ben and I exchanged looks which wouldn’t have been out of place on someone meeting an alien lifeform for the first time. He did allow me a grudging “hello” before turning and disappearing back the way he had come. Hoping that I wouldn’t be overheard I couldn’t resist asking Joan “what am I supposed to do? You know I know nothing about children”.

“oh, he will mostly entertain himself, I think. We won’t be gone but a couple of hours.”

Feeling like a man abandoned to his fate, I held the door as first Lily and then Joan went out. Joan pausing just long enough to give me a peck on the cheek and a smile. “We won’t be gone too long.” And then they were gone.

“Only a couple of hours” somehow the sound of that football made those five words seem like an empty assurance.

Setting the Oxford Mail to the side I heaved myself up out of the easy chair and hurried into the next room. There I found young Ben lazily bouncing a football up in the air with his foot. I had to watch for just a moment, impressed by the skill of someone so young. Far more skillful than I could remember myself being at his age. Sometimes he would let the ball bounce before resuming his act of keeping it in the air. After watching for a few moments I remembered why I had come in. Although he was in the middle of the floor the only thing, I could imagine was that disaster was only a bounce away. That had happened too many times in my own youth. The results had generally meant a paddling of my bottom, something I couldn’t, and wouldn’t dream of doing here. Those sore memories from my youth were likely the reason I didn’t do sports or even follow them to this day.

Fortunately he had enough of an open area so there was no immediate danger. The room had, like the rest of the house been restored to its original condition since I was last here. There were no packing boxes or stuffing lying around. Everything, or everything that I remembered had apparently been returned to its place. In short there was no indication that Joan any longer had intentions of moving. Even so I didn’t want to have to explain to Joan how something had gotten broken while I was supposedly minding the boy. So instead of relaxing in her easy chair I was going to have to coax the boy outside.

To my relief Fred was far more eager to go out into the yard than I was. All I had had to do was promise to play “footer” with him. Fortunately it was a warm sunny morning, one which would be ideal to sports enthusiasts, children and tourists. None of which categories I fit into. I had hoped that by playing “footer” with the boy I could basically just stand there and watch him kick the ball around the yard. Unfortunately that wasn’t what he had in mind. He seemed to want me to put some effort into it. Seeing that as the lesser of a bunch of evils I tried to comply, after all he was just a child.

Unfortunately the child was much more adept at playing ball than I was. After he scored a series of goals while I impersonated a statute, he began to whine that I wasn’t trying and was apparently on the verge of quitting and going back inside. While I had no problem with going back inside, I did have a problem with him telling his mom I wouldn’t play with him. So I had to stick it out. You would think it would be easy for a grown man to beat a child at sports. It wasn’t all one sided though. While I was older, bigger and faster, I wasn’t dressed for sports. Instead I was dressed to attend the recital afterwards, the sole concession being the lack of my jacket and tie. That combined with the need to not embarrass the child made it more even than I would have hoped.

It wasn’t long before I was huffing and puffing trying to keep up with the lad. Each time he scored a goal that latent competitiveness which we all have made me want to beat the little rascal a wee bit more. Effort in sports, even back yard sports sometimes has consequences. The first time I fell I was aghast. Knowing I didn’t have a change with me I would just have to be a bit more careful. The second and third times I didn’t mind the clothing as much. It was finally my heavy breathing that forced me to say, “no mas”. “Let’s go back inside, your mom should be home soon”.

We hadn’t hardly been inside long enough for me to take stock of my dishevelment when the doorbell rang. Ben had gone off somewhere, so I went and opened the door for Joan and her daughter, their arms full of boxes, to enter. Rather than face them I turned my back so that Joan couldn’t see my embarrassment. The girl didn’t pay me any mind, walked right past me with a little sack of whatever they had purchased.

Joan however wasn’t having it. She had taken me in with her first glance. She walked around me, as much as I kept turning, she kept inspecting me. Finally after we had made a complete revolution she said “Morse, stop. Look at me.” She could hardly contain herself, the need to laugh so apparent on that beautiful face.

“Morse, what have you been doing?”

“eh, well your son wanted to play football, and, well it just escalated……”

“I see.” I could tell she wanted to hug me but the bag she was carrying prevented it, the look on her face however, let me know that I had done something right. “Well, Morse, let me get things put away while you straighten yourself up.”


End file.
